


Night Flights

by HolmesianDeduction



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Great Hiatus, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesianDeduction/pseuds/HolmesianDeduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a week since Sherlock Holmes was buried in a closed casket funeral, and Molly Hooper would like him to just get a bit of rest before leaving the country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Flights

            “Those will kill you, you know.”  Molly watched from her end of the sofa as Sherlock Holmes lit a cigarette and took a long, needy drag.  ”I thought you quit.”

            “Don’t make jokes Molly.”  Sherlock exhaled appreciatively, and gave her a dead-eyed stare, then reproachfully, “I can’t have any cases.  I’m _bored_.”

            “It’s been forty-eight hours since you made your plans to leave, Sherlock.”

            “I _need something_.”  Sherlock’s lips settled into a pout around the cigarette.

            There was a silence, then Molly spoke up.  ”I saw John and your landlady today.”  At this, Sherlock cocked his head, and she took this as a cue to continue.  ”John asked me if I would visit the flat tomorrow and then go visit your grave for the first time since the funeral.”

            “Don’t go with them.”  The command came, whip-like, and Molly recoiled slightly.  ”I need you here.”

            “Why?”

            “Tomorrow’s my last day in London.”  When Molly’s expression didn’t shift, he added, “Please?”

            ”When do you meet your brother?”  Molly’s tone was careful, ever-conscious of what the detective might or might not tell her.

            ”Tomorrow.  Midnight.  I take the first flight out.”  Each word was punctuated with an exhalation of smoke, and then the cigarette, burned down almost to the filter, was ground into the empty mug on the side table.

            “Ah.”  Taking a sip from her own mug, Molly nodded slowly. “How long?”

            “However long it takes.”  Out of habit, Sherlock stretched out, glancing up at her as if expecting her to move, and sighing irritably when she didn’t acquiesce.

            “What about John and Mrs. Hudson?  Your brother and I know you’re alive, but what about them?”

            “They’ll be fine.”  Resigning himself to the fact that the pathologist wasn’t going to give in to letting him have the entire sofa, he let his head fall back onto her leg.

            “Are you certain?”  Allowing her fingers to flick a lock of hair out of Sherlock’s face, Molly pursed her lips.  ”John’s very upset.  Understandably.”

            There was a long silence, then a quiet exhalation of breath.  ”Keep an eye on him?”

            “Won’t your brot-“

            “Just do it.  Please.”

            ”Okay.”

             Sherlock didn’t respond, instead closing his eyes, not even objecting when Molly ruffled her fingers through his hair.  When she thought he was finally asleep, he opened one eye.

            ”Molly?”

            ”Yes Sherlock?”

            ”Thank you.”

            ”Get some sleep, Sherlock.”  Fighting to keep her mouth from twitching, Molly forced a smile.

            ”Boring.”

            ” _Now_.”


End file.
